


Skies of Fire

by ClassyNerd



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Battle of Denerim, Darkspawn, Grey Wardens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyNerd/pseuds/ClassyNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A massive force of darkspawn have arisen at my command. Swiftly we journey across the plains of Thedas and draw closer and closer to Denerim's gates which remain guarded but by a few. Her walls of stone will be torn down, until all that remains is a pile of rubble and ash. For I am Urthemiel, the God of Beauty, and I will arise and restore what was once mine!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skies of Fire

A massive force of darkspawn have arisen at my command. Flying over them in a massive arc, I let out a mighty roar that shakes the heavens. As one, they wield their swords and yell as they march forward, the earth quaking at the mighty strength of thousands upon thousands.   
  
The sky will be painted red with their blood. Humans, such frail creatures that blight this land. Once their corpses line the streets and all that is left are those who serve me, then order will arise out of this chaos.   
  
But first, the battle over Denerim must be won.   
  
Swiftly we journey across the plains of Thedas and draw closer and closer to Denerim's gates which remain guarded but by a few. Her walls of stone will be torn down, until all that remains is a pile of rubble and ash. When her walls come into view, my Generals perform my strategy flawlessly. Quickly we overcome her guardians, and blood pools the streets. It is a good day. I fly above and take out catapults that threaten to cast their stones upon my army. With a burst of flame and smoke, their screams arise to the heavens. As the flame spreads onto the buildings, smoke gushes out and the sweet aroma fills my lungs. This is why I'm here. This is why I must accomplish this deed. For I am Urthemiel, the God of Beauty, and I will arise and restore what was once mine!   
  
I let out a deafening roar, and my followers yell at the top of their lungs in response. The clang of steel on steel echoes throughout the land as my hurlocks overtake the gate and reach the inside. Ogres of hideous strength smash whatever lies in their way with a sickening thud.   
  
Then, a horn sounds off in the distance.  
  
No, it can't be! My mighty wings carry me closer on the wind, and I see  _them._ Them I despise, I abhor, I hate with an everlasting hatred. Smoke bursts out my nostrils at the sight of them. Regrouping at the city's gates, my hurlocks prepare to fight this new foe. Slitting the throats of the remaining few humans who look upon this new arrival that gives them perhaps a speck of hope; my hurlocks hold out their blades in a welcoming gesture.  _They_ must die.  
  
Grey Wardens.   
  
Leading a small army compared to mine, they shall be wiped out. There are only three after all, I can sense them in my blood. A small flea that shall be brushed off before we proceed to the rest of the world. Swinging round, I communicate to the rest of my generals what is to be done. A small change of plans is necessary, but hardly compromising. My Generals will lie in wait to kill them as they enter the city, then lead the rest of the hord further into the city till there are no humans left. Where the Grey Wardens and their pathetic army will die. Yes, my hurlocks at the gate will perish, but 'tis no great loss. They were meant to be used for this mighty cause in the first place. What better way to sacrifice your life, if not for a God who must regain what was lost?  
  
I fly low over the battlements, taking out the remaining guards upon the city watch. Arrows bounce off my scaled belly in a pathetic attempt to end my life. Oh, they do not know how hard it would be do so. They do not know how formidable and immortal I am. A poof of smoke, and their souls join their ancestors. But I, I shall live forever and rule the heavens.  
  
A searing pain cuts through my wing. Letting out a roar of rage, I twist and turn to toss this new pest aside. They have wounded me some, but not enough. Not nearly enough. Someone, a grey warden, has fallen from above and lies on my wing, their blade piercing and tearing. The pain burns through my veins and I shake harder, doing a belly roll. They hold on. My flesh rips as I soar higher into the sky. It tears further and further. Till suddenly, there is no more flesh to tear through. The blade and man fall to the earth. And so do I.   
  
I spin out of control. No balance is left to hold me in the skies. I tumble, closer and closer to the ground. Hitting the stone floor of Fort Drakon, I lie there but for a moment. I am strong and immortal, remember?  
  
Drawing up to my full height, the people that run towards me seem like ants. Swinging my tail across the stone, they scatter before me. I let out a burst of flame and they turn to crisps. Mages shoot bolts of magic at me, but they bounce off my scales. My scales are thick,  _nothing,_  not even the strongest sword can pierce my armor. More soldiers gather on the battlements to kill me, and I automatically communicate to my Generals to regroup up here. A human tries to run me through with his greatsword, but I gnash him between my teeth. His bones crack and I toss him onto other soldiers in a bloody heap. They fall back in horror and try to regroup by the time my army arrives. Chaos, perfect, beautiful chaos, unfolds. The sun turns to the color of blood as the battle rages on with the screams of the dying. Soon, the two grey wardens join their army and try to rally them against me. I sweep past my army and towards them. They are mine to kill. I will relish every minute of it.   
  
"Alistair!" One of the Grey Wardens, a man, yells. I rush towards him and let out a ball of fire that sends him running. Arrows fly down upon my back as I swing my tail, taking out dozens of soldiers. A hurlock runs with ax outstretched towards the Grey Warden named Alistair, and he blocks it then decapitates it in one easy stroke. The other Grey Warden has circled around behind me, as if to sneak upon a Archdemon. Fool! I spin around and crush him beneath my feet. As his body lies limp before me on the ground, Alistair jumps upon my back as he lets out a cry of anger. Tossing my head, I feel his blade bounce off my scales. Feisty little creatures. Too bad they aren't a part of my army. They would be useful. I twist my long neck around and snap at him but he already jumped off. He circles round and faces me with his sword in hand. Blood that is not his own is smeared across his face, and his eyes burn with rage. He waits for me to make a move.  
  
Ah, now I have a challenge.  
  
I let out a burst of flame as he rolls out of the way, drawing closer to me. My yellow eyes turn black as I feel something pierce my chest. I let out a roar of rage as I hit him with my head and toss him aside. Blood gushes from my throat, he found one small place I can be hurt. But this isn't over. Far from it. I charge after him and he backs away, having lost his sword. "Alistair!" A red headed woman yells and throws him a sword, and then it is too late. I stand over him as he catches it and I fall upon it.    
  
"Know this beast, you shall die this day!" He yells as the blade plunges into my chest. Pain bursts through my veins as he withdraws and stabs again. I stagger to my knees, and fall, slowly, to my death. As my eyes dim, the last thing I see is them, those pathetic ungrateful humans, shouting joyously at my fall.   
  
And a Grey Warden still lives. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm trying to get inside an Archdemon's head is an interesting experiance. But, Alistair has saved the day! Thanks to Leliana's sword, that is.


End file.
